Remember
by 9r7g5h
Summary: She had been promised that she would forget. But she remembered instead.


AN: I actually wrote a couple of fics a long while ago, and I'm just now getting around to editing them. I hope you all like the 3 am levels of angst coming your way.

Disclaimer: I do not own Adventure Time. Cartoon Network does.

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><p>The vampire who'd turned her had promised she'd forget.<p>

Forget the wars that had destroyed their world, along with the pains that had quickly followed. Forget her fear of the creatures so many had worked together to contain within the hole, all that remained of the cities near the one where she had been born. Forget the hunger and the loneliness, forget the man who had finally left her in the middle of the night with nothing more than a doll for protection, and forget the days that had followed as she tried to find him again.

One day, should he ever leave her as well, she'd even forget him, her maker, and he'd forget her, for mortal minds were not meant to remember.

But demon ones were.

Which was why she still remembered the last word her mother had ever said, a single plea for her to run as the creatures they'd been hiding from since the bomb had fallen finally caught up. Which was why she still remembered the scream as she did.

Which was why she still remembered the song Simon had sung as she drifted off to sleep, the garbled words comforting because it was _him_ who sang them, the closest thing she had to a father before he had to leave.

Which was why, even almost four thousand years after the incident, she still held a grudge against her Dad for eating her fries. It didn't matter that they had been years old, only protected from rot by the chemicals they'd been doused in right before the bombs fell. They had been hers, and if she was going to remember, she was going to be mad about it.

A demon mind was made to remember. But sometimes, she wished she could forget.

Forget the way Simon used to be before the Ice King came, changing him into a princess obsessed stranger. Forget the way he forgot her name, and forget the way she slowly became 'Gunter' instead.

Forget the way Finn used to seek her out for advice when going up against something particularly evil, though he never took it. Forget the way he had hung on her every word when she sang, as if her random songs about fishermen actually meant something in the end. Forget the way he promised to always be her friend, and forget that he broke it when she had to bury him.

Forget the way Jake had slowly warmed up to her, eventually even letting her scratch him behind the ears (though it had only been once, and neither of them had been fully sober at the time). Forget the way the two of them had teamed up once for the good of the little boy they had both cared about so much, ending the nightmares that had haunted him since the Lich. Forget all the times they had jammed together, her ax bass and his viola somehow making music that made everything okay. Forget that she missed the stupid dog, and forget that the occasional creature she ran into with a similar nose was probably one of his.

Forget how Lady had once turned her purple for acting out of line, and how the Rainicorn had always made sure something was red when she visited. Forget the races the two had always fought over, unable to accept that they might be slower than their competitor (though, of course, the answer was always that she was faster. Any that Lady had won were a fluke, a stroke of luck, and even four thousand years later, Marceline would maintain that 'til her grave. Just like Lady had maintained the opposite to her own).

A demon's mind was made to remember. And though she sometimes wished otherwise, Marceline was grateful she'd never forget.

Never forget the look on Bubblegum's face when she first wore the shirt, tugging at the edges to make sure it fit just right before thanking her for the gift.

Never forget the million words that she had never learned the meaning of, the scientific terms that were just so _Bonnie_ that they would always belong to her, no matter how much society would one day try to incorporate them into common conversation.

Never forget the crack in the princess' voice as she asked her to leave, the way her hands had hidden under the blanket she had draped over her legs in an attempt to hide the stale spots that had appeared on the sugar pink skin.

Never forget the tears and the kiss that followed when she'd knelt before the Princess she had spent so long with and said 'no' to her request, and the kiss and tears of her own that would follow a few short dozen decades later when she finally said goodbye.

Her maker had promised she would forget, that a mortal's mind was not made to remember. But a demon's was.

Even after four thousand years, she still wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse.


End file.
